Great Continental Railway Journeys (2012) s04e01 Episode Script
Sofia to Istanbul
I'm embarking on a railway adventure that will take me beyond the edge of Continental Europe.
I'll be using this, my Bradshaw's Continental Railway Guide, dated 1913, which opened up an exotic world of foreign travel for the British tourist.
It told travellers where to go, what to see, and how to navigate the thousands of miles of tracks crisscrossing the Continent.
Now, a century later, I am using my copy to reveal an era of great optimism and energy, where technology, industry, science and the arts were flourishing.
I want to rediscover that lost Europe, that in 1913 couldn't know that its way of life would shortly be swept aside by the advent of war.
My journey will take me east through the Balkans, beyond Christian Europe.
In 1913, only intrepid travellers ventured this way.
On this adventure, I'll be making an unusually difficult journey, tracing the tracks of the Orient Express, speeding me towards that multiethnic city known variously as Constantinople or Istanbul, within which Europe and Asia meet.
At the time of my guidebook, the Ottoman Empire that was ruled from there was decaying - known as the sick man of Europe.
Bulgaria, where my journey begins, had already broken free, and was the cause of rivalry, mistrust and intrigue between the great powers of Europe.
I'll be making my way east, along the most exotic section of the Orient Express route.
Starting in Sofia, Bulgaria's capital, I'll travel to the ancient city of Plovdiv, join a stretch of the line that's now been rebuilt at Svilengrad, and then cross into Turkey at Edirne.
I'll end my journey at the gateway to Asia, Istanbul.
'Along the way' Fire! '.
.
I'll get to grips with a blossoming industry' Ah! The last petal has been defeated.
'.
.
learn the importance of an ancient dance to the Bulgarian psyche.
' I've noticed that one of the techniques is to thrust a hand down the breeches of the other wrestler, so clearly it is no-holds barred.
'I'll discover what Istanbul would have been like in 1913' There were refugees everywhere.
Muslim refugees from the Balkans crowded every available space.
'.
.
and fulfil a boyish fantasy.
' This is the route of the Orient Express, and I am driving the train.
My journey begins in Sofia, where, in 1913, the reigning monarch was Tsar Ferdinand I.
According to Bradshaw's, "the suzerainty of Turkey was thrown off on October 5th, 1908, "when the independence of Bulgaria was proclaimed.
" The dying empire was then involved in a series of bloody wars, with Christian nationalities in the Balkans.
And like vultures, Britain, France, Russia, Austria, Hungary and Germany hovered - each anxious that the others should not gain more than their fair share of influence in the region.
Such tensions earned the region its reputation as the powderkeg of Europe, and indeed, it was events here that sparked the First World War.
In Bulgaria, the Ottomans had been slow to build railways.
In 1880, there were just 140 miles of track, and by 1912, still only 1,300.
I'm arriving at Sofia's Centralna Gara, first opened in August 1888.
Well, first impressions, apparently Sofia station is under major redevelopment.
It's just a building site, really, from one end to the other.
But it's apparent that something rather beautiful and rather grand is going to emerge.
The station's interior reveals the brutalist aesthetic of the most recent empire to control this region - the Soviets.
But Bulgaria is resilient.
First founded in the seventh century, the Bulgarian state is one of the oldest on the European continent.
Maintaining its own form of Orthodox Christianity, despite being consumed by one empire after another over the millennia.
Bulgaria's tumultuous history is reflected in its architecture and here in the Plaza Nezavisimost, those layers of history are exposed in a single place.
"This city," says Bradshaw's, "is about 2,000 feet above sea.
"Almost encompassed by ranges of the Balkans.
" And indeed, it's lovely to see mountains at the end of many streets.
"The old squalid Turkish town has been cleared away, "and its place taken by a modern city.
" But Bradshaw's reminds me that this is the ancient Serdica.
And here, close at hand, are Roman ruins.
Yet I'm surrounded here by buildings from the communist era of the late 20th century.
And all of the ages of the city are presided over by the statue of St Sofia herself.
With Bulgaria's capital named after this early martyr, Christianity has played an important role in the country's history.
Today, 85% of the population regard themselves as Orthodox Christians, and this enormous cathedral is, to me, the loveliest building in Sofia.
The St Alexander Nevsky Cathedral is a relatively modern building in the Byzantine style, and its golden domes are today gleaming in the sunlight.
One of the things I love is that with so little traffic and with big spaces all around, you can appreciate the whole building at once.
The cathedral was largely completed by 1912- just a year before my guidebook was published.
And I'd like to learn more about the period from local guide Stefan Ognyanov.
- Stefan, hello.
- Hello.
Nice to meet you.
I find myself very moved by the cathedral, which has a simplicity, a calm, but certainly a great holiness, as well.
Has the Orthodox Church played a very important part in Bulgarian history? Yes, the Orthodox Church was basically instrumental in the preservation of Bulgarian culture and traditions and basically the identity of the people through the five centuries of Ottoman rule.
And that sense of national identity of consciousness, eventually grew into a wish to be independent from the Ottoman Empire.
Exactly.
There was a small seed that basically started it all and then it grew into a massive movement.
The giant cathedral can hold a congregation of up to 7,000.
Its vast dome rises to 45 metres.
Whoa.
This is extraordinary.
We are so high above the main altar here, I'm quite nervous about dropping my Bradshaw's.
Stefan leads me up onto the roof to get a view over Sofia - a city that was in turmoil back in the 1870s.
Here on the cathedral roof, we get a fantastic view of the city and, actually, also the mountains all around.
So, how was it that the revolution came about when it did? As soon as a critical mass of people realised that they constituted a nation, they were basically looking to establish their own independent Bulgarian state.
So, in 1876, there was an organisation that was supposed to actually light the whole country on fire, so an all-out revolution everywhere.
The reality is, it only really happened in just one region of the country, but still what happened in southern Bulgaria attracted the world's attention, because of the way it was put down.
This April uprising was brutally suppressed by the Ottomans, who massacred up to 30,000 men, women and children.
Those atrocities caused outrage in Western Europe.
- How does Britain react to it all? - The official position of Britain, the British government of Disraeli, is support of the Ottoman Empire in order to block off the interests of Russia in the region.
However, William Gladstone, who was leader of the Liberal party, which was in opposition at the time, was actually appalled by the atrocities and urged the British government to actually take some measures to help the situation of the Bulgarians.
While Gladstone attacked Prime Minister Disraeli's imperialism, Russia seized the chance to lash out at its old Ottoman enemy, and in 1877, stepped in to liberate Bulgaria, cementing her own influence in the region.
In gratitude to their Russian liberators, the Bulgarian people erected this huge Orthodox cathedral and dedicated it to the Russian Tsar's patron saint, Alexander Nevsky.
However, peace in the region didn't last long, as the new King Ferdinand led Bulgaria into two Balkan wars in 1912 and '13.
The first Balkan War, it was the newly established Christian nations of Europe, like Bulgaria, Serbia and Greece, uniting to push the Ottoman Empire - try and push the Ottoman Empire - out of Europe.
And then the Second Balkan War erupted because these newly established Christian nations were fighting each other for what they had achieved during the first war.
As I head back down to ground level, I think of the great sacrifices that this country has made across its turbulent history.
There is a tradition here in the cathedral that you light a candle - either for happiness or, here in the sand, for remembrance.
And since I've heard about the tens of thousands of people who were killed in the struggle for Bulgarian independence, this single candle is in their memory.
While Russia has this splendid cathedral built in gratitude for her assistance, it's good to see that the Victorian statesman William Gladstone has a small corner of Sofia dedicated to his memory.
I'm back at Sofia Central Station to make my way east towards the heart of the old Ottoman Empire.
This, the historic route of the Orient Express, will take me to Bulgaria's second city, Plovdiv - referred to in my guidebook as Philippopolis.
Are you travelling to Plovdiv? - Yes, I am travelling to Plovdiv.
- I am, too.
My name's Michael.
- My name is Emil.
Nice to meet you.
- Good to see you.
I bought some food that they told me was typical Bulgarian.
I don't like to eat alone.
Would you like to share some of this? OK, no problem.
They Boza.
They told me this was typically Bulgarian.
- What is this? - Yes, it's a national Bulgarian drink.
It is made from fermented wheat.
Mm.
Thick and gloopy.
Wow, it's kind of like a Ooh.
- It does smell of fermented wheat, doesn't it? - Yes.
- Incredibly powerful.
- A bit like a medicine.
- Bulgarians like it.
Mm.
Good, good for Bulgarians.
Good.
'This salty yoghurt drink looks as though it might be more suited 'to my British taste buds.
' Oh, that's great.
That's so refreshing.
Now, what's this thing in here? This is a banitsa.
People often eat it for breakfast.
Excuse fingers.
'Banitsa is a traditional filo pastry that can be savoury' Quite tough going.
'.
.
or sweet.
' So, which of these things has been your favourite? My favourite thing right now is this type of sweet banitsa.
I like that.
But for me, my favourite is the salty yoghurt.
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
I've travelled 90 miles south-east from Sofia.
But as I'm arriving in Plovdiv at dusk, I'll wait till morning to explore Bulgaria's second city.
Plovdiv, Bradshaw's tells me, was the Roman Trimontium, referring to the three mountains on which the city is built.
"It was the capital of Thrace.
It has Greek and Bulgarian cathedrals "and several mosques.
"It's a bright and cheerful place, with lofty houses.
"So many influences - Greek, Thracian, Roman, Ottoman.
" And yet, somehow, something emerged that's absolutely Bulgarian.
Plovdiv is thought to be one of the oldest settlements in Europe.
Its ancient pedigree would have greatly appealed to the early 20th-century tourist.
As the Bulgarian middle classes grew wealthier during the 19th century, they developed their own cultural identity, clearly expressed in this elaborately decorated domestic architecture known as National Revival.
As I walk through these roughly paved streets, I feel as though I'm treading on the stones of history.
And these houses, though very charming, are also grand and proud.
Plovdiv is a place that grew used, during its history, to being important.
And one of the things I most appreciate about this place is that I'm enjoying and absorbing all this history virtually alone.
And yet I see there are one or two of my fellow countrymen who've found their way here.
- How are you enjoying Plovdiv? - Incredible.
Incredible.
- Really? What do you think of it? - All the history - Plovdiv goes back 8,000 years.
- What brought you to Plovdiv? - We work with someone from Plovdiv.
- Ah.
- This gentleman here.
- Oh, really? - Yeah.
- You've brought all your English mates over? - Yeah, pretty much.
- Oh, that's fantastic.
- And you're obviously very proud of your town.
- Yeah.
- And are they reacting well to it? - So far, so far.
- Yeah? - That's a pretty good advertisement for the town.
- It's the best.
Thank you, guys.
Enjoyed it.
Bye-bye now.
There's a place I've been told that I must visit in this magnificent city, which isn't mentioned in Bradshaw's, with good reason.
It's wonderful to see a dance going on here.
But first of all, this theatre is incredible.
It is so well preserved.
And I understand it was only uncovered in the 1970s because of a landslide.
And it's just perfection.
Dating back to the Emperor Trajan in the 2nd century AD, this Roman theatre is the perfect spot to witness a traditional dance that's 1,300 years old.
It's really a very beautiful dance.
And the costumes are superb.
HE CLAPS Bravo.
- That was fantastic.
- Thank you very much.
What is that dance called? This is the Thracian dance.
- As it were, from Thrace, as we would say it.
- From Thrace, yes.
And how important is this kind of dancing to Bulgarians, to Bulgarian culture? The dances are very important.
They are part of our national psychology.
Passed down from generation to generation, the dance has always been a part of the life of Bulgarians for all its historical development.
Well, I think I would find it impossible.
Let me show you some movements.
Thank you.
Let me just get this lovely costume on.
How do I look? Not quite as beautiful as you.
Look at that.
- OK.
- So, the dance is called Rachenitsa.
- Yeah.
- And it's one, two, three.
One, two, three.
- Let's start with the right leg.
- OK.
- So, one, two, three.
One, two, three.
- Go.
- Right, left, right.
If this is part of the national identity, I hope that my clumsy footwork doesn't cause a diplomatic incident.
- Now let's do it faster.
- OK.
- OK.
One, two, three.
OK, you are ready to get the part of the dance.
- Let me show you your position.
- OK, thank you, thank you.
Hello.
- You are here.
- I'm here, am I? - OK.
Hello.
- We are ready to go.
- Right.
The Thracian dance I'm attempting is treasured for keeping the Bulgarian spirit alive over five centuries of Ottoman rule.
And when that ended in 1878, young and old danced hand-in-hand in celebration.
On my train journeys, I don't often get the chance to escape from the town or the city.
And in Bulgaria, you have these enormous open spaces and the mountains are ever present.
In this region, in Rumelia, Bradshaw's tells me, "The rose farms, where is produced the otto or attar of roses, "cover a great extent of the country.
"The natural conditions in Bulgaria are perfect, heaven-sent.
" This industry dates back over 300 years.
And today, Bulgaria produces around 70% of the world's rose oil.
Marina Lavrenova is showing me around a farm that's over a century old.
Marina, this is a beautiful place.
Why is it that you're able to grow such great roses here? We are at the heart of the Rose Valley.
This is a blessed area.
And we have the perfect weather conditions to grow the oil-bearing rose here.
- Dobar den.
- Dobar den.
So, how do you pick the rose? Which part are you picking? Exactly this part.
So, she just kind of bends the rose back.
- Yes.
- Thank you.
- Yes.
And the company that owns this plantation here, when did that begin? The company was established in 1909.
And in 1947, it was nationalised.
- During the communist - During the communist period.
- And now? - In 1992, the company was returned to the local owners.
And now it's run by the family of Enio Bonchev.
And so after all those years of communism, the family took it back again? - Yes.
- Fantastic story.
Once picked, the roses must be distilled immediately to extract the scented oil in the flower, so I'm following the process inside.
I see here all the rose petals are ready for the distillery.
Extraordinarily heady smell of what I suppose must be hundreds of thousands of rose petals.
We are in the oldest, but still working distillery in Europe.
This place is actually unique, because all the stills, all the containers are made of copper, because it makes the aroma of the water stronger.
How old are these copper stills? Since 1909.
- Yeah.
- Just before my guidebook.
It looks like the guys are preparing for a distillation, is that right? Exactly.
Around 180 roses are poured into each copper and mixed with five times their weight in water.
This mixture is then boiled over an open flame and the steam fed into a cooling chamber where the first rose-water distillate is collected.
So, we're standing now above the stills - and we can feel the tremendous heat that's coming out of them.
- Yes.
Let me see if I can catch one of these bags.
Whoa! Empty the petals into the still.
Ready for the next bag.
Whoa! He's a very good thrower, this guy.
He's a very good thrower.
'And with each bag weighing 15 kilos, that's no mean feat.
' Fire.
- Michael, you're doing really well.
- Thank you.
I must say, it's very physical.
Ah! The last petal has been defeated.
- That was hard work.
- Great job.
- Thank you very much, Marina.
'A second distillation of the rose-water 'increases the concentration.
' How long does it take from the petals all the way through to the end of the second distillation process? Um The whole process? It's about two hours and 30 minutes.
- Is that all? - Yes.
And what product does that give you? It gives us the rose-water.
Rose-water is a cosmetic product that's said to be excellent for the complexion.
It's sometimes also used in cooking.
But it's rose oil that is most highly prized.
Three-and-a-half tonnes of flowers will produce just one litre of oil.
The company's finest rose alba oil sells for over Ãã7,000 per kilo.
Welcome to our small museum.
- A delightful room.
- Thank you.
And these are very, very beautiful things.
What are these? This is a traditional wooden box.
In Bulgarian, it's called muskal.
- Muskal.
- Muskal.
- Muskal.
- Yes.
It's handmade and this one is 60 years old.
Beautiful little miniature painting.
And you can find the rose oil inside.
- Here, we have 0.
5 millilitres of rose oil.
- So, unscrew the top.
- What, you just put a little drop on, like that? - Yes, put just a drop.
Wow.
That is intense, isn't it? - It's amazing.
I love it.
- Mm.
Smell of roses all day.
- Yeah.
- Now, what's that one there? - This is our rose-water.
- A-ha.
I can spray some of it on your face, on your hair, so - Take aim, take aim.
- OK.
And the other side.
- I will put some on your hair.
- OK.
I feel completely refreshed.
This morning, I'm back at Plovdiv station to continue my journey east along the historic route of the Orient Express.
Dobar den.
Blagodarya.
Rush hour in Plovdiv.
I'm continuing my journey towards Istanbul, Constantinople.
Unfortunately, today, there are no through train services and it seems that things weren't very different at the time of my guidebook.
"Since the outbreak of hostilities" That would be a reference to the Second Balkan War.
".
.
the train service has been suspended.
" Today, it's for a happier reason.
The European Union has designated a railway network running from Dresden and Strasbourg in the west to Istanbul in the east.
And the section that I'm about to come to is being massively rebuilt so that the spirit of the Orient Express can rise again.
As there are no public services through to my next destination, I'm leaving this train at Parvomay to meet Richard Kerr, the British civil engineer who's supervising the rebuilding of this historic railway.
- Hello, Richard.
- Hello, Michael.
Nice to meet you.
- Very good to see you.
I'm sorry to lower your visibility, but! - Not as bright as mine.
- Not quite.
- Right.
- Please, welcome aboard.
Thank you very much.
I think this is the smartest wagon I've seen on rails for a long time.
- What is it? - Well, it's a works train.
It's a specialist train that they use to monitor and oversee the electrical feeding system above the railway.
'The line will also be straightened, 'allowing trains to run at up to 100mph.
' So, this section really tells the whole story.
Here we are moving on an old track, which is very, very bumpy, overgrown in places, foliage on either side.
And yet we can also see, to the sides, the new construction site, the dust, the lorries, the trucks, the earth-moving equipment.
It's all happening.
Yes, obviously, 100 years ago, the engineers were not able to form their way through the hillsides in the way that they do now.
So, now, we've come off the old line.
The bumping has stopped.
This is obviously new track.
We're passing a station that's under construction.
Absolutely.
I'm glad you noticed the difference.
Now we're on the new line, we can speed up to 160km per hour and take ourselves off down to the borders of the European Union.
Bulgaria became a member of the EU in 2007, and this railway line is part of the new European high-speed rail network.
This 150km stretch between Parvomay and Svilengrad is costing Ãã300 million to build.
What's been the most challenging single thing that you've had to do on this route? One of the most significant technical challenges that we've had is a substantial 400-metre bridge that we're building across the River Maritsa, which is prone to flooding, actually, and has caused us some difficulties along the works.
It's quite a substantial structure.
It's a concrete arch bridge and we've had to actually divert the river to allow us to construct it.
Wow, that does sound very complex.
As I near the end of my exclusive preview of this exciting new project, I get to live the dream.
This is the route of the Orient Express, and I am driving the train.
And nobody's told me, but I think this is the accelerator.
Anyone know where the brake is? Here in the driving seat, you get a complete appreciation of the difference that the new track makes.
It's wonderfully smooth and I can see now all the posts have gone in along the side of the line.
This is where the wires will hang.
And shortly, the route of the Orient Express will be fast and electrified.
My engineering train has taken me as far as Svilengrad, just short of the Turkish border.
From here, I have no choice but to hit the road.
I'm now approaching the Turkish border, to my chagrin, in a car, not a train.
Bradshaw's is not encouraging.
"Customs examinations are extremely vexatious and unreasonable, "books being liable to seizure and to being destroyed.
"Passport and luggage are examined.
"It's advisable to put guidebooks and maps in one's pocket "to avoid confiscation.
" But what pocket is big enough for a Bradshaw's? The border had only just been settled here in July 1913, following fierce fighting during the two Balkan Wars.
So, travelling into Turkey a century ago, I might have been crossing a warzone.
Today, my passage into Turkey's toehold in Europe goes without a hitch.
When I left Bulgaria, I not only quit the European Union, but also Christendom.
The boundary between Christian and Muslim domains has been hotly disputed over many centuries.
At one time, it stood close to the French town of Tours.
At another time, it was just outside Vienna.
And for the last century, it's run just close by here, just outside Edirne.
This city was the empire's capital before the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1453.
Thereafter, it remained an important Ottoman centre.
So much so that Sultan Selim II commissioned his finest architect to build the monumental Selimiye Mosque at its highest point.
Sultan Selim's fine mosque, according to Bradshaw's, has a lofty dome, four minarets, many marble courts, colonnades and 999 windows.
It is the work of Mimar Sinan, and "Mimar" means "architect", and he was simply the greatest of the Ottoman period.
This predates St Peter's Cathedral in Rome, and the Taj Mahal, but in common with those two great buildings, it seems to me that it wears its bulk very lightly.
It's as though the four minarets are somehow carrying it towards heaven.
Mimar Sinan was responsible for over 300 major buildings.
And this glorious mosque, completed in 1575, is his masterpiece and considered one of the greatest buildings in the Islamic world.
A source of particular pride was the dome, just a little larger than that of the famous Hagia Sophia, built by Christians 1,000 years earlier in Constantinople.
When you enter the mosque, the first thing that strikes you is its simplicity.
Because the dome is so immense, almost the whole space for worship can lie beneath it.
There's no need for further complexity.
And then you're struck by the colours - the blues, the reds, the greens.
It's as though a tapestry has been spread above you, like a canopy.
I really do feel as though I've stepped over a threshold into the Orient, not only because of the architecture, but also because of the traditions.
This part of Turkey maintains a practice dating back over 3,000 years and I've been invited to this stadium to witness it.
An oil wrestling tournament has been held annually in this area since 1346, making it the longest running sports competition in the world.
The wrestlers are covered in this stuff, which is olive oil, and that makes it very difficult for either one to get a grip on the other.
Now, they're wearing leather pants, and I can see that they're trying to put their hands inside the other's trousers.
So, I think anything goes.
Any hold at all is allowed.
But, apparently, at the end of it all, there are marks given for gentlemanly conduct.
During the early days of the Ottoman Empire, the military commander Suleiman Pasha would let his soldiers unwind by wrestling.
On one memorable occasion, the two top fighters grappled past midnight until both died of exhaustion.
Ouch.
I wonder what straight-laced Edwardian tourists would have made of this.
- Ah! - Oh! - Hello.
- Do you speak English? - Yes.
A little.
Well, thank you.
I've rarely seen such an extraordinary spectacle.
- Thank you very much.
- Congratulations.
Were you a kid when you started this? - Ten years.
- Yeah? - Ten years.
- Are you very exhausted? - Yes.
Thank you very much.
Bye.
It's clear that I've tumbled into another world.
And after watching such exertions, I'm ready to slide into my bed for my first night's sleep in Turkey.
This morning, I treat myself to a traditional Turkish shave.
Wow! That feels really good.
And now that I'm fit for first class, I've come two miles out of town in search of the historic route of the Orient Express.
I found this beautiful old station where I'm meeting historian Soner Tursun.
- Hello, Soner.
- Hello.
- Very good to see you.
My guidebook tells me that the station is some distance from the town, and so it is.
Why was it built here? Well, actually, the company had no interest in building the station closer to the city, because it had to cross the Maritsa River and, of course, the company was paid by the kilometre they build, so it was not good for them to take the shortest route.
That's extraordinary.
Now, who was it who built the line we know as the Orient Express? Well, actually, it was such a big project that no single person was totally responsible for it.
The Ottoman Empire had no money, so it granted concessions.
The first person was Baron von Hirsch.
Von Hirsch set up a consortium and construction began in 1870.
When did an Orient Express first pass through this lovely Edirne station? What we call the Orient Express, starting from Paris, ending in Istanbul, crossed the line in 1883.
The Orient Express had a reputation for luxury.
Until it gained a reputation for murder.
One of the people who made the Orient Express so famous was, of course, Agatha Christie, with her novel Murder On The Orient Express.
What was her experience of the line, then? It was an unlucky travel, because the train got stuck because of a snow slide.
The train had to wait for a long time and probably she was inspired because of this event.
Because in this story, the Orient Express gets stuck because of a snow slide and in the morning, they see one of the passengers was killed and everyone becomes the suspect.
If only I could make such a fortune out of every train delay.
This beautiful old station is now out of commission and houses the Fine Arts faculty of the University of Trakya.
In its heyday, the railway carried countesses and millionaires, presidents and crooks, all speeding their way to my final destination.
For the last leg of my journey, I'm picking up the train to the centre of a city known in my Bradshaw's as Constantinople, and renamed Istanbul in 1930.
A short stroll from my stop, I find the old Sirkeci station, the grand terminus of the Orient Express, which ran from Paris for almost a century, until 1977.
"The principal railway station, "the terminus of the Oriental Railway Company," says Bradshaw's, "is the arrival and departure station "for all trains connecting with the rest of Europe.
" I know it's semi-deserted today.
I imagine the excitement of travellers arriving from points all over the continent, the commotion as they descended from the train with their trunks and their hatboxes and their servants.
The noise of the impact of West upon East.
Istanbul is built, like Rome, on seven hills.
This is a city as treasured and fought over as Jerusalem, as important a city of empire as Rome.
It's one of the greats in the long history of the Old World.
I've come to admire the most famous building in this historic city, which began life as a Christian cathedral.
When I first saw the Hagia Sophia, it took me a while to work out what this building was because, of course, it looks like a mosque, but it was built by a Roman.
It was built by the Emperor Justinian.
And, to me, it's just extraordinary that such an immense building could have been created 1,500 years ago.
- Hello.
Do you speak English? - Yeah.
- Are you enjoying your visit to Istanbul? - Yeah, definitely.
- What have you enjoyed so far most? - The Hagia Sophia.
I think it's really beautiful to see how the Islamic and the Christian .
.
art converges together.
Especially in times of war and stuff like that.
Do you feel while you're in Istanbul - that you're in this meeting place of East and West - Yeah.
- .
.
of Islam and Christianity? - Yeah, definitely.
And I think the church really shows, in one building, the whole city.
There's an extraordinary buzz about the streets of Istanbul.
The shops and the cafes tumble into the street.
The restaurant owners invite you into their premises.
The merchandise is exotic.
OK, it's touristy, but it is undeniably different.
You have made the journey.
Hello.
Cheese, potato, apple pie.
Turkish borek.
- Apple pie.
Apple pie.
- Apple pie.
- How much is that? - Three dinar.
Four dinar, three dinar.
- There we go.
Thank you very much indeed.
Thank you.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.
- Hello, good day.
- Mm.
- Yes, please.
It's good.
It's good.
The Grand Bazaar is one of the oldest and largest covered markets in the world, built shortly after the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1453.
What I find so stunning about the bazaar is the assault on the eyes of colour.
Everything is so bright, all the goods, all the ceramics, all the scarves, all the carpets.
Even the painting on the arches.
Just like that.
Leaving the hectic buzz of the Old City behind, I'm making my way down to the banks of the Bosporus, the narrow channel which links the Black Sea with the Mediterranean.
- Hello, Caroline.
- Hello, good to see you.
- Very good to see you.
Here, I wanted to discover more about Istanbul in the early 20th century from historian Caroline Finkel.
Caroline, we can see the Suleymaniye Mosque and the Topkapi Palace.
I suppose these buildings really represent the Ottoman Empire at the height of its powers.
That's very much the case.
They're built, as you can see, on the spine of the hill in a very dominating position.
Everyone who approached by sea would see them immediately, standing there on the promontory, and it must have been quite a sight when you came to the city.
'The Topkapi Palace was the first seat of government 'for the Ottoman sultans, 'who held absolute power across the empire.
'Next to it, the Suleymaniye Mosque was completed in 1557, 'when the empire controlled 'most of the eastern and southern Mediterranean.
' And if the traveller had come here in either the 16th or the 17th century, what impression would he have had of Constantinople? You can read travellers' accounts.
They all are pretty much overwhelmed by the place.
They might have seen, during Suleiman's reign Suleiman was given to appearing at parades and displays, so the ones who were lucky enough to be there would have seen that side of Ottoman power as well, the very splendid and dramatic and gilded sight of Ottoman power in the city.
By the early 20th century, that impression would have been rather different.
The 1913 traveller, using my guidebook, what would he have found in Constantinople? It seems to me rather surprising that people were being encouraged to come.
I don't think the FCO today would recommend that people came in 1913.
It was a terrible year.
The city was in turmoil.
It was just, of course, before the First World War, but the First World War was merely a culmination of everything that went before.
The empire had shrunk dramatically, losing provinces that had been Ottoman for five centuries in a matter of weeks during the First Balkan War of 1912.
There were refugees everywhere.
Muslim refugees from the Balkans crowded every available space.
Hundreds of thousands of refugees with nothing.
While the empire's borders contracted, pressure for reform built inside Turkey from a revolutionary group known as the Young Turks.
And the great powers circled like vultures over the Bosporus.
The greatest threat came from the Russians, who were trying to come down and take warm water harbours.
They only had the cold waters of the north, frozen much of the year, and this was the cause of much of the wars between the Ottomans and the Russians.
As the Ottomans had grown weaker, they'd sought an ally in the West and had aligned themselves with the newest state in Europe, Germany.
The Germans did not have a record of having tutored the Ottomans, for better or for worse, throughout the long centuries.
They had industry, technology to sell, military reforms, railways, and it was a very happy alliance between the two.
The Ottomans' defeat in the First World War gave rise to the nationalist movement which was to remove the sultans and lead to the foundation of the modern state of Turkey.
I've stayed overnight in this opulent hotel which, at the time of my guidebook, was the property of the International Sleeping Car Company which ran the trains of the Orient Express.
Ah, the elegance of centuries gone by.
Agatha Christie was a regular guest and legend has it that here, she wrote Murder On The Orient Express.
Good morning.
Having relished the heights of Edwardian luxury, there's one more treat I have to delight in while I'm here.
- Hello, Hande.
- Oh, hello.
- Good morning, I'm Michael.
- Good morning.
- Nice to meet you.
- What a delightful shop.
- Thank you.
- How old is it? It's 238 years old exactly.
It was opened 1777.
'Hande's ancestor, Haci Bekir, moved to Istanbul from Anatolia 'and set up this shop.
'His excellent sweetmeats came to the attention of Sultan Mahmud II, 'who appointed him Chief Confectioner to the Palace.
'Today, Hande Celalyan is the fifth generation of the family 'to run the shop.
' And when can we call these confections Turkish delight? This is when an English traveller bought some Turkish delight from Istanbul and brought it to England.
At that time, it was called rahat-ul hulkum.
- What was that word? - Rahat-ul hulkum.
Rahat-ul hulkum.
And then it was rahat lokum, and lokum simply for us, too.
- Oh, lokum is easier.
- That was the development of the word in Turkish.
Lokum.
I can manage that, actually.
Haci Bekir was a man on a mission to create the perfect Turkish sweet.
His greatest innovation came with the discovery of starch in 1811.
He was the first one to use starch instead of flour.
And this isthat we achieved the elastic texture now, the elastic magical cubes today.
'Hande is constantly developing new varieties 'using a vast array of tantalising ingredients.
' This is Turkish delight with walnuts.
So, as you see they are produced in rolls.
- Like sausages.
- Like sausages, yes, indeed.
- And then they are cut here by hand freshly in the shop.
- Fantastic.
What would you say to someone like me who finds Turkish delight a little too sweet? You should try something with nuts, because the nuts are cutting the sweetness.
Tell me your impression.
Well, I think you're right.
It's not too sweet.
It has a lovely elasticity.
Yeah, I like that.
You should feel the resistance but your teeth should be able to bite cleanly through the product.
Well, I think I had that experience, but I think I might need another to be sure.
For my final delight here in Istanbul, I'm heading back to Sirkeci Metro station to cross one of the most fought-over sea channels in the world.
Bradshaw's tells me you can take a rowboat from the European side across the Bosporus to the Asian side in 15 minutes.
But since 2013, this brand-new railway has existed, the Marmaray, and that goes deep in the tunnel from the Asian side to the European side, and then that's going to connect to railways that go all the way out to the suburbs.
And, of course, it will connect to railways going all the way out to the suburbs on the Asian side, too.
Plans for a rail tunnel under the Bosporus were first mooted during the reign of Sultan Abdulmecid in 1860.
But they've only just been realised.
This tunnel, 60 metres underground, was particularly problematic to engineers as it crosses a tectonic faultline on its route to Asia.
Amazing to think that we're now under the Bosporus.
If I could tunnel through the roof of this train and keep going, I'd arrive in one of the most famous stretches of water in the world.
Quiz question - when do you change continent without changing city? Answer - in Istanbul.
Welcome to Asia.
Now on the Asian shore, I'm drawn to the famous Haidar Pasha station, from where trains used to depart for Izmit and Ankara.
It was completed in 1909 by the Ottoman Anatolian Railway Company after being chosen as the Asian terminus for the ambitious German Berlin to Baghdad railway.
It seems that the new Marmaray line has made this historic station redundant, too, though I see it's still used for art installations.
While here, I can't help but become nostalgic about those intrepid Edwardian travellers inbound from Asia Minor.
It's a bit like arriving in Venice by train.
You would go down these steps to your steamboat, which would be waiting, possibly to take you across the Bosporus.
Maybe you'd want a couple of nights in the Pera Palace Hotel, just time to get your white linen suit pressed, before heading on into Europe.
Haidar Pasha Terminus marked the end of many a journey.
But I'm amazed to discover tucked behind the now derelict station the final resting place for thousands of British soldiers and expatriates.
Historian Lynelle Howson is showing me around.
Lynelle, Bradshaw's says that, "In the beautiful British cemetery of Haidar Pasha "are buried thousands who died of sickness or wounds "during the Crimean War.
" This is truly a very historic place.
And is Bradshaw's right about thousands lying here? Yes.
Most of the Crimean servicemen buried here are in mass graves.
I've heard anything from 6,000 to 8,000 buried right here in the cemetery, in Haidar Pasha.
Do you get the impression that in the 19th century, this was a place of some homage, of pilgrimage? I certainly do, not least because Bradshaw mentions it.
He points it out as somewhere that people might be interested to come specifically because of the Crimean War and the fame of Florence Nightingale and the nearby hospital.
'Shortly after my guidebook was published, 'thousands more would die during the First World War, 'not far away at Gallipoli.
'And some of those casualties were brought here, too.
' 9th Battalion Australian infantry.
A soldier of the Indian Army.
South Wales.
How many nationalities are represented here? Well, if we consider modern nationalities, we'll have more than 20, I would say.
Here at the crossroads of Europe and Asia, it's poignant to reflect on the price of conflicts past and present.
In 1913, the intrepid Bradshaw traveller would hope to journey to Constantinople on the Orient Express, passing through the newly independent Bulgaria.
But warzones would interrupt his progress as the Ottoman Empire disintegrated.
The Balkans were the tinderbox that would ignite the First World War.
And two years later, Turkish cemeteries would fill with British Empire dead.
Today, trains pass from Europe to Asia under the Bosporus.
Turkey is a democratic nation with a majority Muslim population that borders Iran, Iraq and Syria.
Just like 100 years ago, it is an important square on the international strategic chessboard.
Next time, I'll learn how the Habsburg Empire, when faced with the future, fought to hold on to its past.
Not everybody likes it when a new world begins.
A new world beginning means an old world ends.
I'll attempt an Edwardian-style winter sports challenge.
Yay! You will hang like this.
I wondered how I would hang.
And I'll travel along one of the world's most impressive feats of railway engineering.
There weren't tunnel-drilling machines, so they had to drill the holes by hand.
So, it's a handmade railway line.
I'll be using this, my Bradshaw's Continental Railway Guide, dated 1913, which opened up an exotic world of foreign travel for the British tourist.
It told travellers where to go, what to see, and how to navigate the thousands of miles of tracks crisscrossing the Continent.
Now, a century later, I am using my copy to reveal an era of great optimism and energy, where technology, industry, science and the arts were flourishing.
I want to rediscover that lost Europe, that in 1913 couldn't know that its way of life would shortly be swept aside by the advent of war.
My journey will take me east through the Balkans, beyond Christian Europe.
In 1913, only intrepid travellers ventured this way.
On this adventure, I'll be making an unusually difficult journey, tracing the tracks of the Orient Express, speeding me towards that multiethnic city known variously as Constantinople or Istanbul, within which Europe and Asia meet.
At the time of my guidebook, the Ottoman Empire that was ruled from there was decaying - known as the sick man of Europe.
Bulgaria, where my journey begins, had already broken free, and was the cause of rivalry, mistrust and intrigue between the great powers of Europe.
I'll be making my way east, along the most exotic section of the Orient Express route.
Starting in Sofia, Bulgaria's capital, I'll travel to the ancient city of Plovdiv, join a stretch of the line that's now been rebuilt at Svilengrad, and then cross into Turkey at Edirne.
I'll end my journey at the gateway to Asia, Istanbul.
'Along the way' Fire! '.
.
I'll get to grips with a blossoming industry' Ah! The last petal has been defeated.
'.
.
learn the importance of an ancient dance to the Bulgarian psyche.
' I've noticed that one of the techniques is to thrust a hand down the breeches of the other wrestler, so clearly it is no-holds barred.
'I'll discover what Istanbul would have been like in 1913' There were refugees everywhere.
Muslim refugees from the Balkans crowded every available space.
'.
.
and fulfil a boyish fantasy.
' This is the route of the Orient Express, and I am driving the train.
My journey begins in Sofia, where, in 1913, the reigning monarch was Tsar Ferdinand I.
According to Bradshaw's, "the suzerainty of Turkey was thrown off on October 5th, 1908, "when the independence of Bulgaria was proclaimed.
" The dying empire was then involved in a series of bloody wars, with Christian nationalities in the Balkans.
And like vultures, Britain, France, Russia, Austria, Hungary and Germany hovered - each anxious that the others should not gain more than their fair share of influence in the region.
Such tensions earned the region its reputation as the powderkeg of Europe, and indeed, it was events here that sparked the First World War.
In Bulgaria, the Ottomans had been slow to build railways.
In 1880, there were just 140 miles of track, and by 1912, still only 1,300.
I'm arriving at Sofia's Centralna Gara, first opened in August 1888.
Well, first impressions, apparently Sofia station is under major redevelopment.
It's just a building site, really, from one end to the other.
But it's apparent that something rather beautiful and rather grand is going to emerge.
The station's interior reveals the brutalist aesthetic of the most recent empire to control this region - the Soviets.
But Bulgaria is resilient.
First founded in the seventh century, the Bulgarian state is one of the oldest on the European continent.
Maintaining its own form of Orthodox Christianity, despite being consumed by one empire after another over the millennia.
Bulgaria's tumultuous history is reflected in its architecture and here in the Plaza Nezavisimost, those layers of history are exposed in a single place.
"This city," says Bradshaw's, "is about 2,000 feet above sea.
"Almost encompassed by ranges of the Balkans.
" And indeed, it's lovely to see mountains at the end of many streets.
"The old squalid Turkish town has been cleared away, "and its place taken by a modern city.
" But Bradshaw's reminds me that this is the ancient Serdica.
And here, close at hand, are Roman ruins.
Yet I'm surrounded here by buildings from the communist era of the late 20th century.
And all of the ages of the city are presided over by the statue of St Sofia herself.
With Bulgaria's capital named after this early martyr, Christianity has played an important role in the country's history.
Today, 85% of the population regard themselves as Orthodox Christians, and this enormous cathedral is, to me, the loveliest building in Sofia.
The St Alexander Nevsky Cathedral is a relatively modern building in the Byzantine style, and its golden domes are today gleaming in the sunlight.
One of the things I love is that with so little traffic and with big spaces all around, you can appreciate the whole building at once.
The cathedral was largely completed by 1912- just a year before my guidebook was published.
And I'd like to learn more about the period from local guide Stefan Ognyanov.
- Stefan, hello.
- Hello.
Nice to meet you.
I find myself very moved by the cathedral, which has a simplicity, a calm, but certainly a great holiness, as well.
Has the Orthodox Church played a very important part in Bulgarian history? Yes, the Orthodox Church was basically instrumental in the preservation of Bulgarian culture and traditions and basically the identity of the people through the five centuries of Ottoman rule.
And that sense of national identity of consciousness, eventually grew into a wish to be independent from the Ottoman Empire.
Exactly.
There was a small seed that basically started it all and then it grew into a massive movement.
The giant cathedral can hold a congregation of up to 7,000.
Its vast dome rises to 45 metres.
Whoa.
This is extraordinary.
We are so high above the main altar here, I'm quite nervous about dropping my Bradshaw's.
Stefan leads me up onto the roof to get a view over Sofia - a city that was in turmoil back in the 1870s.
Here on the cathedral roof, we get a fantastic view of the city and, actually, also the mountains all around.
So, how was it that the revolution came about when it did? As soon as a critical mass of people realised that they constituted a nation, they were basically looking to establish their own independent Bulgarian state.
So, in 1876, there was an organisation that was supposed to actually light the whole country on fire, so an all-out revolution everywhere.
The reality is, it only really happened in just one region of the country, but still what happened in southern Bulgaria attracted the world's attention, because of the way it was put down.
This April uprising was brutally suppressed by the Ottomans, who massacred up to 30,000 men, women and children.
Those atrocities caused outrage in Western Europe.
- How does Britain react to it all? - The official position of Britain, the British government of Disraeli, is support of the Ottoman Empire in order to block off the interests of Russia in the region.
However, William Gladstone, who was leader of the Liberal party, which was in opposition at the time, was actually appalled by the atrocities and urged the British government to actually take some measures to help the situation of the Bulgarians.
While Gladstone attacked Prime Minister Disraeli's imperialism, Russia seized the chance to lash out at its old Ottoman enemy, and in 1877, stepped in to liberate Bulgaria, cementing her own influence in the region.
In gratitude to their Russian liberators, the Bulgarian people erected this huge Orthodox cathedral and dedicated it to the Russian Tsar's patron saint, Alexander Nevsky.
However, peace in the region didn't last long, as the new King Ferdinand led Bulgaria into two Balkan wars in 1912 and '13.
The first Balkan War, it was the newly established Christian nations of Europe, like Bulgaria, Serbia and Greece, uniting to push the Ottoman Empire - try and push the Ottoman Empire - out of Europe.
And then the Second Balkan War erupted because these newly established Christian nations were fighting each other for what they had achieved during the first war.
As I head back down to ground level, I think of the great sacrifices that this country has made across its turbulent history.
There is a tradition here in the cathedral that you light a candle - either for happiness or, here in the sand, for remembrance.
And since I've heard about the tens of thousands of people who were killed in the struggle for Bulgarian independence, this single candle is in their memory.
While Russia has this splendid cathedral built in gratitude for her assistance, it's good to see that the Victorian statesman William Gladstone has a small corner of Sofia dedicated to his memory.
I'm back at Sofia Central Station to make my way east towards the heart of the old Ottoman Empire.
This, the historic route of the Orient Express, will take me to Bulgaria's second city, Plovdiv - referred to in my guidebook as Philippopolis.
Are you travelling to Plovdiv? - Yes, I am travelling to Plovdiv.
- I am, too.
My name's Michael.
- My name is Emil.
Nice to meet you.
- Good to see you.
I bought some food that they told me was typical Bulgarian.
I don't like to eat alone.
Would you like to share some of this? OK, no problem.
They Boza.
They told me this was typically Bulgarian.
- What is this? - Yes, it's a national Bulgarian drink.
It is made from fermented wheat.
Mm.
Thick and gloopy.
Wow, it's kind of like a Ooh.
- It does smell of fermented wheat, doesn't it? - Yes.
- Incredibly powerful.
- A bit like a medicine.
- Bulgarians like it.
Mm.
Good, good for Bulgarians.
Good.
'This salty yoghurt drink looks as though it might be more suited 'to my British taste buds.
' Oh, that's great.
That's so refreshing.
Now, what's this thing in here? This is a banitsa.
People often eat it for breakfast.
Excuse fingers.
'Banitsa is a traditional filo pastry that can be savoury' Quite tough going.
'.
.
or sweet.
' So, which of these things has been your favourite? My favourite thing right now is this type of sweet banitsa.
I like that.
But for me, my favourite is the salty yoghurt.
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
I've travelled 90 miles south-east from Sofia.
But as I'm arriving in Plovdiv at dusk, I'll wait till morning to explore Bulgaria's second city.
Plovdiv, Bradshaw's tells me, was the Roman Trimontium, referring to the three mountains on which the city is built.
"It was the capital of Thrace.
It has Greek and Bulgarian cathedrals "and several mosques.
"It's a bright and cheerful place, with lofty houses.
"So many influences - Greek, Thracian, Roman, Ottoman.
" And yet, somehow, something emerged that's absolutely Bulgarian.
Plovdiv is thought to be one of the oldest settlements in Europe.
Its ancient pedigree would have greatly appealed to the early 20th-century tourist.
As the Bulgarian middle classes grew wealthier during the 19th century, they developed their own cultural identity, clearly expressed in this elaborately decorated domestic architecture known as National Revival.
As I walk through these roughly paved streets, I feel as though I'm treading on the stones of history.
And these houses, though very charming, are also grand and proud.
Plovdiv is a place that grew used, during its history, to being important.
And one of the things I most appreciate about this place is that I'm enjoying and absorbing all this history virtually alone.
And yet I see there are one or two of my fellow countrymen who've found their way here.
- How are you enjoying Plovdiv? - Incredible.
Incredible.
- Really? What do you think of it? - All the history - Plovdiv goes back 8,000 years.
- What brought you to Plovdiv? - We work with someone from Plovdiv.
- Ah.
- This gentleman here.
- Oh, really? - Yeah.
- You've brought all your English mates over? - Yeah, pretty much.
- Oh, that's fantastic.
- And you're obviously very proud of your town.
- Yeah.
- And are they reacting well to it? - So far, so far.
- Yeah? - That's a pretty good advertisement for the town.
- It's the best.
Thank you, guys.
Enjoyed it.
Bye-bye now.
There's a place I've been told that I must visit in this magnificent city, which isn't mentioned in Bradshaw's, with good reason.
It's wonderful to see a dance going on here.
But first of all, this theatre is incredible.
It is so well preserved.
And I understand it was only uncovered in the 1970s because of a landslide.
And it's just perfection.
Dating back to the Emperor Trajan in the 2nd century AD, this Roman theatre is the perfect spot to witness a traditional dance that's 1,300 years old.
It's really a very beautiful dance.
And the costumes are superb.
HE CLAPS Bravo.
- That was fantastic.
- Thank you very much.
What is that dance called? This is the Thracian dance.
- As it were, from Thrace, as we would say it.
- From Thrace, yes.
And how important is this kind of dancing to Bulgarians, to Bulgarian culture? The dances are very important.
They are part of our national psychology.
Passed down from generation to generation, the dance has always been a part of the life of Bulgarians for all its historical development.
Well, I think I would find it impossible.
Let me show you some movements.
Thank you.
Let me just get this lovely costume on.
How do I look? Not quite as beautiful as you.
Look at that.
- OK.
- So, the dance is called Rachenitsa.
- Yeah.
- And it's one, two, three.
One, two, three.
- Let's start with the right leg.
- OK.
- So, one, two, three.
One, two, three.
- Go.
- Right, left, right.
If this is part of the national identity, I hope that my clumsy footwork doesn't cause a diplomatic incident.
- Now let's do it faster.
- OK.
- OK.
One, two, three.
OK, you are ready to get the part of the dance.
- Let me show you your position.
- OK, thank you, thank you.
Hello.
- You are here.
- I'm here, am I? - OK.
Hello.
- We are ready to go.
- Right.
The Thracian dance I'm attempting is treasured for keeping the Bulgarian spirit alive over five centuries of Ottoman rule.
And when that ended in 1878, young and old danced hand-in-hand in celebration.
On my train journeys, I don't often get the chance to escape from the town or the city.
And in Bulgaria, you have these enormous open spaces and the mountains are ever present.
In this region, in Rumelia, Bradshaw's tells me, "The rose farms, where is produced the otto or attar of roses, "cover a great extent of the country.
"The natural conditions in Bulgaria are perfect, heaven-sent.
" This industry dates back over 300 years.
And today, Bulgaria produces around 70% of the world's rose oil.
Marina Lavrenova is showing me around a farm that's over a century old.
Marina, this is a beautiful place.
Why is it that you're able to grow such great roses here? We are at the heart of the Rose Valley.
This is a blessed area.
And we have the perfect weather conditions to grow the oil-bearing rose here.
- Dobar den.
- Dobar den.
So, how do you pick the rose? Which part are you picking? Exactly this part.
So, she just kind of bends the rose back.
- Yes.
- Thank you.
- Yes.
And the company that owns this plantation here, when did that begin? The company was established in 1909.
And in 1947, it was nationalised.
- During the communist - During the communist period.
- And now? - In 1992, the company was returned to the local owners.
And now it's run by the family of Enio Bonchev.
And so after all those years of communism, the family took it back again? - Yes.
- Fantastic story.
Once picked, the roses must be distilled immediately to extract the scented oil in the flower, so I'm following the process inside.
I see here all the rose petals are ready for the distillery.
Extraordinarily heady smell of what I suppose must be hundreds of thousands of rose petals.
We are in the oldest, but still working distillery in Europe.
This place is actually unique, because all the stills, all the containers are made of copper, because it makes the aroma of the water stronger.
How old are these copper stills? Since 1909.
- Yeah.
- Just before my guidebook.
It looks like the guys are preparing for a distillation, is that right? Exactly.
Around 180 roses are poured into each copper and mixed with five times their weight in water.
This mixture is then boiled over an open flame and the steam fed into a cooling chamber where the first rose-water distillate is collected.
So, we're standing now above the stills - and we can feel the tremendous heat that's coming out of them.
- Yes.
Let me see if I can catch one of these bags.
Whoa! Empty the petals into the still.
Ready for the next bag.
Whoa! He's a very good thrower, this guy.
He's a very good thrower.
'And with each bag weighing 15 kilos, that's no mean feat.
' Fire.
- Michael, you're doing really well.
- Thank you.
I must say, it's very physical.
Ah! The last petal has been defeated.
- That was hard work.
- Great job.
- Thank you very much, Marina.
'A second distillation of the rose-water 'increases the concentration.
' How long does it take from the petals all the way through to the end of the second distillation process? Um The whole process? It's about two hours and 30 minutes.
- Is that all? - Yes.
And what product does that give you? It gives us the rose-water.
Rose-water is a cosmetic product that's said to be excellent for the complexion.
It's sometimes also used in cooking.
But it's rose oil that is most highly prized.
Three-and-a-half tonnes of flowers will produce just one litre of oil.
The company's finest rose alba oil sells for over Ãã7,000 per kilo.
Welcome to our small museum.
- A delightful room.
- Thank you.
And these are very, very beautiful things.
What are these? This is a traditional wooden box.
In Bulgarian, it's called muskal.
- Muskal.
- Muskal.
- Muskal.
- Yes.
It's handmade and this one is 60 years old.
Beautiful little miniature painting.
And you can find the rose oil inside.
- Here, we have 0.
5 millilitres of rose oil.
- So, unscrew the top.
- What, you just put a little drop on, like that? - Yes, put just a drop.
Wow.
That is intense, isn't it? - It's amazing.
I love it.
- Mm.
Smell of roses all day.
- Yeah.
- Now, what's that one there? - This is our rose-water.
- A-ha.
I can spray some of it on your face, on your hair, so - Take aim, take aim.
- OK.
And the other side.
- I will put some on your hair.
- OK.
I feel completely refreshed.
This morning, I'm back at Plovdiv station to continue my journey east along the historic route of the Orient Express.
Dobar den.
Blagodarya.
Rush hour in Plovdiv.
I'm continuing my journey towards Istanbul, Constantinople.
Unfortunately, today, there are no through train services and it seems that things weren't very different at the time of my guidebook.
"Since the outbreak of hostilities" That would be a reference to the Second Balkan War.
".
.
the train service has been suspended.
" Today, it's for a happier reason.
The European Union has designated a railway network running from Dresden and Strasbourg in the west to Istanbul in the east.
And the section that I'm about to come to is being massively rebuilt so that the spirit of the Orient Express can rise again.
As there are no public services through to my next destination, I'm leaving this train at Parvomay to meet Richard Kerr, the British civil engineer who's supervising the rebuilding of this historic railway.
- Hello, Richard.
- Hello, Michael.
Nice to meet you.
- Very good to see you.
I'm sorry to lower your visibility, but! - Not as bright as mine.
- Not quite.
- Right.
- Please, welcome aboard.
Thank you very much.
I think this is the smartest wagon I've seen on rails for a long time.
- What is it? - Well, it's a works train.
It's a specialist train that they use to monitor and oversee the electrical feeding system above the railway.
'The line will also be straightened, 'allowing trains to run at up to 100mph.
' So, this section really tells the whole story.
Here we are moving on an old track, which is very, very bumpy, overgrown in places, foliage on either side.
And yet we can also see, to the sides, the new construction site, the dust, the lorries, the trucks, the earth-moving equipment.
It's all happening.
Yes, obviously, 100 years ago, the engineers were not able to form their way through the hillsides in the way that they do now.
So, now, we've come off the old line.
The bumping has stopped.
This is obviously new track.
We're passing a station that's under construction.
Absolutely.
I'm glad you noticed the difference.
Now we're on the new line, we can speed up to 160km per hour and take ourselves off down to the borders of the European Union.
Bulgaria became a member of the EU in 2007, and this railway line is part of the new European high-speed rail network.
This 150km stretch between Parvomay and Svilengrad is costing Ãã300 million to build.
What's been the most challenging single thing that you've had to do on this route? One of the most significant technical challenges that we've had is a substantial 400-metre bridge that we're building across the River Maritsa, which is prone to flooding, actually, and has caused us some difficulties along the works.
It's quite a substantial structure.
It's a concrete arch bridge and we've had to actually divert the river to allow us to construct it.
Wow, that does sound very complex.
As I near the end of my exclusive preview of this exciting new project, I get to live the dream.
This is the route of the Orient Express, and I am driving the train.
And nobody's told me, but I think this is the accelerator.
Anyone know where the brake is? Here in the driving seat, you get a complete appreciation of the difference that the new track makes.
It's wonderfully smooth and I can see now all the posts have gone in along the side of the line.
This is where the wires will hang.
And shortly, the route of the Orient Express will be fast and electrified.
My engineering train has taken me as far as Svilengrad, just short of the Turkish border.
From here, I have no choice but to hit the road.
I'm now approaching the Turkish border, to my chagrin, in a car, not a train.
Bradshaw's is not encouraging.
"Customs examinations are extremely vexatious and unreasonable, "books being liable to seizure and to being destroyed.
"Passport and luggage are examined.
"It's advisable to put guidebooks and maps in one's pocket "to avoid confiscation.
" But what pocket is big enough for a Bradshaw's? The border had only just been settled here in July 1913, following fierce fighting during the two Balkan Wars.
So, travelling into Turkey a century ago, I might have been crossing a warzone.
Today, my passage into Turkey's toehold in Europe goes without a hitch.
When I left Bulgaria, I not only quit the European Union, but also Christendom.
The boundary between Christian and Muslim domains has been hotly disputed over many centuries.
At one time, it stood close to the French town of Tours.
At another time, it was just outside Vienna.
And for the last century, it's run just close by here, just outside Edirne.
This city was the empire's capital before the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1453.
Thereafter, it remained an important Ottoman centre.
So much so that Sultan Selim II commissioned his finest architect to build the monumental Selimiye Mosque at its highest point.
Sultan Selim's fine mosque, according to Bradshaw's, has a lofty dome, four minarets, many marble courts, colonnades and 999 windows.
It is the work of Mimar Sinan, and "Mimar" means "architect", and he was simply the greatest of the Ottoman period.
This predates St Peter's Cathedral in Rome, and the Taj Mahal, but in common with those two great buildings, it seems to me that it wears its bulk very lightly.
It's as though the four minarets are somehow carrying it towards heaven.
Mimar Sinan was responsible for over 300 major buildings.
And this glorious mosque, completed in 1575, is his masterpiece and considered one of the greatest buildings in the Islamic world.
A source of particular pride was the dome, just a little larger than that of the famous Hagia Sophia, built by Christians 1,000 years earlier in Constantinople.
When you enter the mosque, the first thing that strikes you is its simplicity.
Because the dome is so immense, almost the whole space for worship can lie beneath it.
There's no need for further complexity.
And then you're struck by the colours - the blues, the reds, the greens.
It's as though a tapestry has been spread above you, like a canopy.
I really do feel as though I've stepped over a threshold into the Orient, not only because of the architecture, but also because of the traditions.
This part of Turkey maintains a practice dating back over 3,000 years and I've been invited to this stadium to witness it.
An oil wrestling tournament has been held annually in this area since 1346, making it the longest running sports competition in the world.
The wrestlers are covered in this stuff, which is olive oil, and that makes it very difficult for either one to get a grip on the other.
Now, they're wearing leather pants, and I can see that they're trying to put their hands inside the other's trousers.
So, I think anything goes.
Any hold at all is allowed.
But, apparently, at the end of it all, there are marks given for gentlemanly conduct.
During the early days of the Ottoman Empire, the military commander Suleiman Pasha would let his soldiers unwind by wrestling.
On one memorable occasion, the two top fighters grappled past midnight until both died of exhaustion.
Ouch.
I wonder what straight-laced Edwardian tourists would have made of this.
- Ah! - Oh! - Hello.
- Do you speak English? - Yes.
A little.
Well, thank you.
I've rarely seen such an extraordinary spectacle.
- Thank you very much.
- Congratulations.
Were you a kid when you started this? - Ten years.
- Yeah? - Ten years.
- Are you very exhausted? - Yes.
Thank you very much.
Bye.
It's clear that I've tumbled into another world.
And after watching such exertions, I'm ready to slide into my bed for my first night's sleep in Turkey.
This morning, I treat myself to a traditional Turkish shave.
Wow! That feels really good.
And now that I'm fit for first class, I've come two miles out of town in search of the historic route of the Orient Express.
I found this beautiful old station where I'm meeting historian Soner Tursun.
- Hello, Soner.
- Hello.
- Very good to see you.
My guidebook tells me that the station is some distance from the town, and so it is.
Why was it built here? Well, actually, the company had no interest in building the station closer to the city, because it had to cross the Maritsa River and, of course, the company was paid by the kilometre they build, so it was not good for them to take the shortest route.
That's extraordinary.
Now, who was it who built the line we know as the Orient Express? Well, actually, it was such a big project that no single person was totally responsible for it.
The Ottoman Empire had no money, so it granted concessions.
The first person was Baron von Hirsch.
Von Hirsch set up a consortium and construction began in 1870.
When did an Orient Express first pass through this lovely Edirne station? What we call the Orient Express, starting from Paris, ending in Istanbul, crossed the line in 1883.
The Orient Express had a reputation for luxury.
Until it gained a reputation for murder.
One of the people who made the Orient Express so famous was, of course, Agatha Christie, with her novel Murder On The Orient Express.
What was her experience of the line, then? It was an unlucky travel, because the train got stuck because of a snow slide.
The train had to wait for a long time and probably she was inspired because of this event.
Because in this story, the Orient Express gets stuck because of a snow slide and in the morning, they see one of the passengers was killed and everyone becomes the suspect.
If only I could make such a fortune out of every train delay.
This beautiful old station is now out of commission and houses the Fine Arts faculty of the University of Trakya.
In its heyday, the railway carried countesses and millionaires, presidents and crooks, all speeding their way to my final destination.
For the last leg of my journey, I'm picking up the train to the centre of a city known in my Bradshaw's as Constantinople, and renamed Istanbul in 1930.
A short stroll from my stop, I find the old Sirkeci station, the grand terminus of the Orient Express, which ran from Paris for almost a century, until 1977.
"The principal railway station, "the terminus of the Oriental Railway Company," says Bradshaw's, "is the arrival and departure station "for all trains connecting with the rest of Europe.
" I know it's semi-deserted today.
I imagine the excitement of travellers arriving from points all over the continent, the commotion as they descended from the train with their trunks and their hatboxes and their servants.
The noise of the impact of West upon East.
Istanbul is built, like Rome, on seven hills.
This is a city as treasured and fought over as Jerusalem, as important a city of empire as Rome.
It's one of the greats in the long history of the Old World.
I've come to admire the most famous building in this historic city, which began life as a Christian cathedral.
When I first saw the Hagia Sophia, it took me a while to work out what this building was because, of course, it looks like a mosque, but it was built by a Roman.
It was built by the Emperor Justinian.
And, to me, it's just extraordinary that such an immense building could have been created 1,500 years ago.
- Hello.
Do you speak English? - Yeah.
- Are you enjoying your visit to Istanbul? - Yeah, definitely.
- What have you enjoyed so far most? - The Hagia Sophia.
I think it's really beautiful to see how the Islamic and the Christian .
.
art converges together.
Especially in times of war and stuff like that.
Do you feel while you're in Istanbul - that you're in this meeting place of East and West - Yeah.
- .
.
of Islam and Christianity? - Yeah, definitely.
And I think the church really shows, in one building, the whole city.
There's an extraordinary buzz about the streets of Istanbul.
The shops and the cafes tumble into the street.
The restaurant owners invite you into their premises.
The merchandise is exotic.
OK, it's touristy, but it is undeniably different.
You have made the journey.
Hello.
Cheese, potato, apple pie.
Turkish borek.
- Apple pie.
Apple pie.
- Apple pie.
- How much is that? - Three dinar.
Four dinar, three dinar.
- There we go.
Thank you very much indeed.
Thank you.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.
- Hello, good day.
- Mm.
- Yes, please.
It's good.
It's good.
The Grand Bazaar is one of the oldest and largest covered markets in the world, built shortly after the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1453.
What I find so stunning about the bazaar is the assault on the eyes of colour.
Everything is so bright, all the goods, all the ceramics, all the scarves, all the carpets.
Even the painting on the arches.
Just like that.
Leaving the hectic buzz of the Old City behind, I'm making my way down to the banks of the Bosporus, the narrow channel which links the Black Sea with the Mediterranean.
- Hello, Caroline.
- Hello, good to see you.
- Very good to see you.
Here, I wanted to discover more about Istanbul in the early 20th century from historian Caroline Finkel.
Caroline, we can see the Suleymaniye Mosque and the Topkapi Palace.
I suppose these buildings really represent the Ottoman Empire at the height of its powers.
That's very much the case.
They're built, as you can see, on the spine of the hill in a very dominating position.
Everyone who approached by sea would see them immediately, standing there on the promontory, and it must have been quite a sight when you came to the city.
'The Topkapi Palace was the first seat of government 'for the Ottoman sultans, 'who held absolute power across the empire.
'Next to it, the Suleymaniye Mosque was completed in 1557, 'when the empire controlled 'most of the eastern and southern Mediterranean.
' And if the traveller had come here in either the 16th or the 17th century, what impression would he have had of Constantinople? You can read travellers' accounts.
They all are pretty much overwhelmed by the place.
They might have seen, during Suleiman's reign Suleiman was given to appearing at parades and displays, so the ones who were lucky enough to be there would have seen that side of Ottoman power as well, the very splendid and dramatic and gilded sight of Ottoman power in the city.
By the early 20th century, that impression would have been rather different.
The 1913 traveller, using my guidebook, what would he have found in Constantinople? It seems to me rather surprising that people were being encouraged to come.
I don't think the FCO today would recommend that people came in 1913.
It was a terrible year.
The city was in turmoil.
It was just, of course, before the First World War, but the First World War was merely a culmination of everything that went before.
The empire had shrunk dramatically, losing provinces that had been Ottoman for five centuries in a matter of weeks during the First Balkan War of 1912.
There were refugees everywhere.
Muslim refugees from the Balkans crowded every available space.
Hundreds of thousands of refugees with nothing.
While the empire's borders contracted, pressure for reform built inside Turkey from a revolutionary group known as the Young Turks.
And the great powers circled like vultures over the Bosporus.
The greatest threat came from the Russians, who were trying to come down and take warm water harbours.
They only had the cold waters of the north, frozen much of the year, and this was the cause of much of the wars between the Ottomans and the Russians.
As the Ottomans had grown weaker, they'd sought an ally in the West and had aligned themselves with the newest state in Europe, Germany.
The Germans did not have a record of having tutored the Ottomans, for better or for worse, throughout the long centuries.
They had industry, technology to sell, military reforms, railways, and it was a very happy alliance between the two.
The Ottomans' defeat in the First World War gave rise to the nationalist movement which was to remove the sultans and lead to the foundation of the modern state of Turkey.
I've stayed overnight in this opulent hotel which, at the time of my guidebook, was the property of the International Sleeping Car Company which ran the trains of the Orient Express.
Ah, the elegance of centuries gone by.
Agatha Christie was a regular guest and legend has it that here, she wrote Murder On The Orient Express.
Good morning.
Having relished the heights of Edwardian luxury, there's one more treat I have to delight in while I'm here.
- Hello, Hande.
- Oh, hello.
- Good morning, I'm Michael.
- Good morning.
- Nice to meet you.
- What a delightful shop.
- Thank you.
- How old is it? It's 238 years old exactly.
It was opened 1777.
'Hande's ancestor, Haci Bekir, moved to Istanbul from Anatolia 'and set up this shop.
'His excellent sweetmeats came to the attention of Sultan Mahmud II, 'who appointed him Chief Confectioner to the Palace.
'Today, Hande Celalyan is the fifth generation of the family 'to run the shop.
' And when can we call these confections Turkish delight? This is when an English traveller bought some Turkish delight from Istanbul and brought it to England.
At that time, it was called rahat-ul hulkum.
- What was that word? - Rahat-ul hulkum.
Rahat-ul hulkum.
And then it was rahat lokum, and lokum simply for us, too.
- Oh, lokum is easier.
- That was the development of the word in Turkish.
Lokum.
I can manage that, actually.
Haci Bekir was a man on a mission to create the perfect Turkish sweet.
His greatest innovation came with the discovery of starch in 1811.
He was the first one to use starch instead of flour.
And this isthat we achieved the elastic texture now, the elastic magical cubes today.
'Hande is constantly developing new varieties 'using a vast array of tantalising ingredients.
' This is Turkish delight with walnuts.
So, as you see they are produced in rolls.
- Like sausages.
- Like sausages, yes, indeed.
- And then they are cut here by hand freshly in the shop.
- Fantastic.
What would you say to someone like me who finds Turkish delight a little too sweet? You should try something with nuts, because the nuts are cutting the sweetness.
Tell me your impression.
Well, I think you're right.
It's not too sweet.
It has a lovely elasticity.
Yeah, I like that.
You should feel the resistance but your teeth should be able to bite cleanly through the product.
Well, I think I had that experience, but I think I might need another to be sure.
For my final delight here in Istanbul, I'm heading back to Sirkeci Metro station to cross one of the most fought-over sea channels in the world.
Bradshaw's tells me you can take a rowboat from the European side across the Bosporus to the Asian side in 15 minutes.
But since 2013, this brand-new railway has existed, the Marmaray, and that goes deep in the tunnel from the Asian side to the European side, and then that's going to connect to railways that go all the way out to the suburbs.
And, of course, it will connect to railways going all the way out to the suburbs on the Asian side, too.
Plans for a rail tunnel under the Bosporus were first mooted during the reign of Sultan Abdulmecid in 1860.
But they've only just been realised.
This tunnel, 60 metres underground, was particularly problematic to engineers as it crosses a tectonic faultline on its route to Asia.
Amazing to think that we're now under the Bosporus.
If I could tunnel through the roof of this train and keep going, I'd arrive in one of the most famous stretches of water in the world.
Quiz question - when do you change continent without changing city? Answer - in Istanbul.
Welcome to Asia.
Now on the Asian shore, I'm drawn to the famous Haidar Pasha station, from where trains used to depart for Izmit and Ankara.
It was completed in 1909 by the Ottoman Anatolian Railway Company after being chosen as the Asian terminus for the ambitious German Berlin to Baghdad railway.
It seems that the new Marmaray line has made this historic station redundant, too, though I see it's still used for art installations.
While here, I can't help but become nostalgic about those intrepid Edwardian travellers inbound from Asia Minor.
It's a bit like arriving in Venice by train.
You would go down these steps to your steamboat, which would be waiting, possibly to take you across the Bosporus.
Maybe you'd want a couple of nights in the Pera Palace Hotel, just time to get your white linen suit pressed, before heading on into Europe.
Haidar Pasha Terminus marked the end of many a journey.
But I'm amazed to discover tucked behind the now derelict station the final resting place for thousands of British soldiers and expatriates.
Historian Lynelle Howson is showing me around.
Lynelle, Bradshaw's says that, "In the beautiful British cemetery of Haidar Pasha "are buried thousands who died of sickness or wounds "during the Crimean War.
" This is truly a very historic place.
And is Bradshaw's right about thousands lying here? Yes.
Most of the Crimean servicemen buried here are in mass graves.
I've heard anything from 6,000 to 8,000 buried right here in the cemetery, in Haidar Pasha.
Do you get the impression that in the 19th century, this was a place of some homage, of pilgrimage? I certainly do, not least because Bradshaw mentions it.
He points it out as somewhere that people might be interested to come specifically because of the Crimean War and the fame of Florence Nightingale and the nearby hospital.
'Shortly after my guidebook was published, 'thousands more would die during the First World War, 'not far away at Gallipoli.
'And some of those casualties were brought here, too.
' 9th Battalion Australian infantry.
A soldier of the Indian Army.
South Wales.
How many nationalities are represented here? Well, if we consider modern nationalities, we'll have more than 20, I would say.
Here at the crossroads of Europe and Asia, it's poignant to reflect on the price of conflicts past and present.
In 1913, the intrepid Bradshaw traveller would hope to journey to Constantinople on the Orient Express, passing through the newly independent Bulgaria.
But warzones would interrupt his progress as the Ottoman Empire disintegrated.
The Balkans were the tinderbox that would ignite the First World War.
And two years later, Turkish cemeteries would fill with British Empire dead.
Today, trains pass from Europe to Asia under the Bosporus.
Turkey is a democratic nation with a majority Muslim population that borders Iran, Iraq and Syria.
Just like 100 years ago, it is an important square on the international strategic chessboard.
Next time, I'll learn how the Habsburg Empire, when faced with the future, fought to hold on to its past.
Not everybody likes it when a new world begins.
A new world beginning means an old world ends.
I'll attempt an Edwardian-style winter sports challenge.
Yay! You will hang like this.
I wondered how I would hang.
And I'll travel along one of the world's most impressive feats of railway engineering.
There weren't tunnel-drilling machines, so they had to drill the holes by hand.
So, it's a handmade railway line.